A Different Kind of Magic
by Kate Alexandra
Summary: In hindsight, she probably shouldn't have thought that his disability would be a limiting factor for anything. For a man with one hand, some of the things he could do with that single hand were downright magic. Plus he clearly loved a challenge, so of course Captain Hook didn't let things like limits or conventions determine who he was, what he could do or how he could love.


**Author's Note:** This started out as a drabble based on Killian Jones shuffling cards and somehow transformed into a 5K ramble about Emma's obsession with Killian's fingers and hand. The story goes up to season 4 during the 6 weeks of peace in Storybrooke. Lots of pining and lust, love and smut (and maybe a little dash of angst.) I hope this isn't utter rubbish. Reviews appreciated!

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Emma had history of underestimating Killian Jones. She knew he was smart, even when he trended towards smart-ass, but in hindsight, she probably shouldn't have thought that his disability would be a limiting factor for anything. For a man with one hand, some of the things he could do with that single hand were downright magic. Plus the bastard clearly loved a challenge, so of course Captain Hook didn't let things like limits or conventional wisdom determine who he was, what he could do or how he could love.

The first time she underestimated him, they were climbing a beanstalk, which was for difficult enough for her and she had a ton of upper body strength. She expected it would difficult for Hook to climb the beanstalk but he gave no impression that this was anything out of the ordinary, in fact he was ahead of her most of the way. Maybe it was like climbing the rigging on his pirate ship? Several times during the climb, she found herself checking out his strong form, and his dexterous fingers that, every so often would take hold of two vines at a time with a firm hold using his divided digits.

She wasn't lying when she said she wouldn't take her eyes off of him, he was very easy on the eyes. He was the type of guy, if she met him in a bar, she would've taken him home for a night. However this wasn't her world and unfortunately when he opened his mouth to speak, he managed to find and press every button she had just to see how she'd react. Again at the top of the beanstalk when he held her hand in his, she thought she might have trembled at the touch and then he used his mouth to tie the cloth over her wound. So many inappropriate thoughts filled her head when she gazed upon the pirate in that moment. Something about him made her want to let her guard down and invite him in, but he was a villain, a villain who would cross her at the first chance. So better she did it first and then fell back on her tried and true method of dealing uncomfortable situations: to run. Run from the handsome, cocky pirate before she did something stupid, something like allowing his rough hand to explore her body and see if his strength could be useful to her in other fun activities. When she fought him a few days later and he used his sword and hook across hers in a move that was purely sexual, a part of her mind screamed to let him make good on his naughty innuendo but she knocked him out instead. She could not shake the feeling he had let her do so either.

Weeks later came the day he caught her unawares, and maybe a little angry, figuring out how to free himself from her handcuffs in the hospital, meandering into the waiting room and attempting to flirt with Ruby when the sly motherfucker had just teased her about her own interest in other attachments aside from his hook. She had smiled and taunted him about Gold being unfazed by the pirate's half-assed effort to hurt the immortal sorcerer via Belle. She figured taunting him would rile him up, and so she left him to contemplate his failure, though she wasn't really expecting he'd be able to escape if she cuffed his right hand to the bed. He ended up leaving Emma curious as to how the hell he managed it. Afterward she may or may not have imagined him using his mouth, his tongue curling around a bobby pin, to pick the lock on the handcuffs. Definitely _not_.

On the journey to Neverland she was impressed with how well he could manage the Jolly Roger by himself, tying lines and working the tasks of many sailors all at once with very few modifications to assist in his endeavors. Centuries of calling the ship home meant he probably knew the ship better than he knew himself. That didn't stop Emma from feeling an irrational bolt of jealousy as she watched the Captain lovingly run his fingers over marred wood in many places on the ship after the storm called by the mermaid receded, tracing damage wrought as though he was gently treating a wound, all the while softly whispering words in a language she didn't understand. She wondered briefly how his long fingers would feel against her neck or breasts as he caressed - _ugh, fuck_ , it had been a long damn time since she had gotten laid and she knew she had to be really fucking desperate if she was jealous of the relationship a villainous pirate had with his centuries old, magical fucking pirate ship.

Stuck in Neverland, she was forced to spend more time around him then she ever had before and started take notice of just how he well adapted he was. He used his hook just as easily as his hand, sometimes even favoring his hook over his hand even for eating. Sometimes, when he wasn't looking, she found herself watching him, dismissing it as her curiosity to understand how someone made the most of an awful loss - nothing more! Settling into camp and dividing the coconuts they gathered, Emma couldn't help but watch in awe as he sat down next to her and rolled one coconut back and forth in the palm of his hand, his fingers feeling for imperfections on the fruit before tossing it into the air, followed by another, juggling the large coconuts with an ease that suggested a _lot_ practice had driven such results.

Her father's glares at the pirate caused him to cease but Hook kept his seat next to her, using his namesake to pierce the coconut so she would be able to consume its contents before he offered it over to her. His fingers brushed against hers and sent shivers through her body; contact with him was too much and not enough at the same time. Emma forcibly shifted her focus back to saving her son and away from the hot, literally _hot_ , pirate whose body was inches from hers as they sat on the jungle floor.

Later, when she kissed him, it took everything she had to walk away. It took everything she had not to give in to her lust, but that was all it was, wasn't it? Hook had known she couldn't handle it, _handle him,_ and Emma didn't want to acknowledge why exactly he could get under her skin so easily and how he seemed to know her so well. Denial worked; denial and running had always worked so maybe it would work a while longer. Emma was strong enough to admit she had some regrets when their adventure concluded at the town line but regrets faded to forgotten dreams when the tendrils of Regina's spell wove a new life for her and Henry.

A blissful year passed in New York as Emma and Henry found a new home and Emma finally opened up enough to let someone in for the first time since Neal had destroyed her heart and left her to raise Henry as a single mother fresh out of jail. Emma couldn't clearly remember how the cracks in the walls around her heart had come about but Walsh was a decent guy and maybe he could make Emma happy. However Emma's nights were plagued by odd, unexplained dreams; adventures to strange lands and a faceless man, the only details of him she could remember were impossibly blue eyes and dark hair, who threaded strong fingers into her hair as they were locked in a very passionate, unending kiss. When a man reminiscent of her mysterious dream guy showed up at her door one morning and kissed her, it took a moment for her protective instinct to kick in as she kneed him in the balls and shoved him away. The man wouldn't stop following her and when his explanation came with impossible proof and less than subtle hints he might be someone she loved in the lost life he'd been raving about, her instincts surfaced once again and she boldly drank the tiny bottled potion he proffered.

The memories and emotions slammed into her with the force of a ton of bricks and she was so relieved to see someone who really knew her, that for a brief moment caution left her, and she threw herself into his arms. Killian hesitated for only another moment before his strong arms enveloped her, giving the comfort she sought. He pressed his face to her neck and breathed in her scent as he splayed his hand wide across the middle of her back, fingers dancing against her spine, and his fake hand rested much lower, a fire sparked within her that such simple touch shouldn't be fanning.

Emma was unsure how long they stayed this way but her brain reminded her of the other morning when he had attempted True Love's Kiss. Obviously he didn't know it wouldn't work as she had no memories of him but she couldn't help the fear rising within her: he thought they could be true love! She broke their embrace and put distance between them once more. A distance that was harder to maintain once they began the journey back to Storybrooke but Emma was good at running and just because he had haunted her lust-filled dreams for so long didn't mean she had to give in.

In the early days of fighting the Wicked Witch, she invited Killian over for a game night to help entertain her mother, in an effort to keep the very pregnant woman from trying to hunt down the witch on her own, and Henry, who had no idea Emma's friend Killian was anything but what she had said. After one round of poker, they decided to play again since there weren't too many games that they could play without it taking forever to explain to Killian and such explanations would have caused rampant curiosity in her twelve year old as to why Killian wasn't familiar with them already. Thankfully Henry was more than content to chill on the couch and play with his Gameboy while the adults gambled. Emma was just a little excited to play again because she knew she had the best damn poker face of all of them and it felt nearly normal not think about the Wicked Witch for a few hours. Plus it was almost a cakewalk as they all had such easy tells: her mom's cheeks and neck would flush if she tried to lie, her dad couldn't look anyone straight in the eye as he bluffed, and Killian, well, Killian scratched his ear when he was hiding something or nervous.

Emma grabbed all of the discarded piles from the last game and set them down for barely second, with the intention to shuffle as she had the first round, but she noted Killian had taken the cards. He used his thumb and index finger to steady the deck while using his middle and ring fingers to slide out half the cards from the bottom of the deck to form two piles of cards, steadying the new pile against his pinky finger. Emma watched in amazement as he guided the newly created pile to the top of the original part of the deck, the cards held firm between his thumb and pinky and then flipped his hand over and neatly let the two halves merge without dropping a single card.

 _God, how amazing would it be if I let him use those nimble fingers on me?_

Emma shook the thought from her head though she knew her mouth had to be hanging wide open because Killian caught her eye with a devilish smirk and one eyebrow raised in challenge as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Emma _couldn't_ handle it. Not with everything else going on. It was too complicated and Emma Swan didn't do complicated. She had enough "complicated" from her fucked up family tree and the various bad apples that seemed pop up just to wreak havoc in Storybrooke all the time.

"Emma?" Emma heard her name being said but she still hadn't broken eye contact with Killian, his baby blue eyes entrancing her as though he was the one who wielded magic, not her.

"Emma?" Mary Margaret said again and Emma turned to see her mother looking back and forth between her and Killian. How had she forgotten her mother was at the table? Thank God her father was in the kitchen helping Henry make hot cocoa rather than watching the exchange at the dining table. Emma was torn between wanting to crawl under a rock and die from embarrassment and needing to drag Killian back to his room at Granny's and have him use his fingers, tongue and, _God help her_ , his hook to make her come harder than she ever had in her life.

Emma's phone rang loudly disturbing their evening and sending them out into the night to once again chase after the latest lead about Neal. It would be a long time before Emma would have the luxury of thinking about anything but villians because when it rains it pours and so much seemed to have happened in such a short time. Neal dying, Zelena's curse on Hook, Emma giving up her magic to save him and getting them dragged into the past. And finally admitting for the first time in her life she realized she wanted to stop running, that she found home and that a certain pirate had become important to her in ways that were completely foreign to her. Unfortunately deciding to stay and giving Killian a chance also happened to coincide with a new villain coming to town, because _of course_ it could never just be that simple as deciding to explore this thing between them.

There was also the choice that Emma made, deciding that they should take things slowly, if only to keep her from messing things up between them. Emma knew she hadn't had enough time to sort through all of her emotions and sex would just complicate everything. Knowing he loved her, there was no use in denying it, she knew sex would be something different for him and she really didn't think it was fair of her to go down that road until she was able to acknowledge, even if only to herself, how she truly felt about Killian Jones. Gentleman that he was, he was willing to let Emma set the pace, but it didn't stop him teasing her. Things that, to others, would seem innocent, like licking ketchup off his fingers after sharing a plate of fries with her son or drumming his fingers in various rhythms on the nearest flat surface he could find when he was bored. He'd catch her eye and smile knowingly at her but never push his luck.

When the Snow Queen was defeated, Elsa, Anna and Kristoff returned to Arendelle and Belle banished Rumplestiltskin from town, life in Storybrooke was peaceful. So Emma made a decision not to let anything hold her back any longer. One night Killian picked her up at her parents for a date but refused to tell her anything about where they were headed, smiling at her frustration. Emma wore a navy blue scoop neck, knee-length dress and a white sweater since summer was coming to an end and the evening might be chilly.

Killian held her hand, guiding her through town to one of the paths that lead to a more remote stretch of beach. As they cleared the treeline, Emma could see a red plaid blanket laid out with candles, a basket of what she assumed was food, a bottle of wine in an ice bucket and an odd shaped case.

"My lady," Killian smiled as he released her hand and assisted her with settling down on the blanket.

"This is amazing," Emma mumbled.

"I just thought we could enjoy a private dinner by the water. I've visited this beach many times before and encountered nary a soul so I thought it a fitting locale," Killian informed her, blue eyes sparkling with a happiness that made him seem much younger than he was.

They enjoyed the food he had cooked himself using Granny's kitchen at the diner. She never would've listed cooking as something Killian Jones would be good at, but he wasn't just good, the food was delicious and she wanted him to cook for her again. After they finished eating, she tucked her body close against his as he taught her the constellations of this world and related what he had learned of them from borrowed library books.

His lesson concluded, Killian pulled away and she whined at the loss of his heat.

"Patience, Swan. I want to do something I haven't done in a long time," he breathed, barely loud enough for her to hear him. He went to the case and unlocked it, pulling out a beautiful violin, a bow and an attachment that looked as though it allowed him to affix the bow to his brace, permitting him to play. She stared at him, slack-jawed.

"I used to play for my mother before she died and after I lost my hand I taught myself how to play using an attachment for the bow to my left wrist so I could use my right hand to play the notes. I found this in the shop when I was with Belle the other day, the curse must have taken it off of the Jolly Roger and I wanted to play for you," Killian confessed, nervousness written in his handsome features.

Emma nodded, "Of course, I'd be honored if you would play for me."

It took only a few moments for Killian to remove his jacket and to situate himself before he began playing. Emma watched as his fingers moved over the strings and his left arm moved the bow to create a serene, melodic tale that almost reminded Emma of how she had felt since she had met him. The ups and downs of their journey to each other, to this point in time where she sat before him, entranced by the music, by him. Fixated on the movement of his hand, fingers and bow on the violin, she had yet to look away, knowing the emotion she'd find when she searched it out. Emma lifted her gaze to his and found he was watching her, not his playing, meaning he played from memory. Emma couldn't help but wonder how many nights he had played this aboard the Jolly Roger when they had been separated, seemingly forever. The melody concluded and he set the violin, bow and attachments back into its case.

There were no words uttered as she placed her right hand on his brace and her left caressed his cheek, turning him to face her. She hoped he could read her as well as he once said, the words she wasn't ready for present in her actions. If the smirk and eyebrow raised just before she pressed her lips to his were any indication, he certainly knew. His left arm pressed into her low back and his right hand cradled her head, fingers combing through her hair almost the same as in her dreams from long ago.

Emma groaned as he deepened the kiss but kept his contact to mostly respectable positions. "Killian, please," she begged, breaking the kiss and moving his hand to her breast. Killian growled as he captured her lips again and let his hand expertly massage one breast then the other. Emma cried out as he trailed his lips from her mouth to her jaw then to the pulse point on her throat. She was so aroused, so close, and he had barely touched her yet and the thought only fueled the wildfire in her.

"Emma, are you certain?" Killian rasped against her neck, trying to hold himself in check and give her the control as he always did.

"I've never been more certain in my life. Please don't stop, not for anything," she gasped as his hand slid lower to the flat of her abdomen and lower still to the hem of her dress. She shucked her sweater and helped him pull her dress over her head, pausing to laugh at his sharp intake of air as he realized she wasn't wearing any undergarments.

"Naughty Swan, you've been bare underneath that beautiful dress all this time? Full of want?" Killian grinned like a cat who ate the canary.

Emma took advantage of his distracted state to allow her fingers to make quick work of the buttons on his vest and then shirt, pushing them off onto the blanket.

Just has she reached for his belt, his hand forcibly stopped her. "Oh, no, my darling, tonight is about you. I intend to worship you like the goddess you are," Killian groaned, pushing her back onto the blanket. He moved away for a moment to remove his brace, baring his blunted wrist to her for the first time. She tried to reach out and touch him but he grabbed both her arms and moved them above her head.

Killian's lips came to her neck and left wet kisses down to her breasts, as he shifted so his blunted arm held her in place and his hand cupped her left breast as he brought it to his mouth and sucked gently on her nipple. Alternating between her breasts, gentle nibbling to extended suckling, his hand mapping her upper body and categorizing each and every response to his touch, Emma was panting well before his hand shifted to the thatch above her core. She tried to shift her body so that his hand was where she so badly needed it but he held her firmly, ghosting his fingers down her thighs.

"Tell me what you want, Emma. Tell me what you need and I shall grant you your desire," Killian commanded. Emma was so lost in how he was making her feel, she would've done almost anything he asked of her.

"I want you to use your fingers to make me scream. I need to come so badly, please, Killian," Emma whimpered, relieved she finally admitted what she had wanted from him for so long.

"As you wish," he nodded, releasing her arm and sitting back on his haunches. He pushed her thighs wide and pushed himself back so he could kiss an alternating path up her legs to her center. He ran one finger through her folds to find her desire very evident.

"Seven hells, Emma, you're fucking soaked," his accent thicker with desire. He slipped one digit into her and she sighed as his thumb found her clit with unerring accuracy, circling it at the same time he slipped another finger into her. Emma knew as keyed up as she was it wouldn't take much to make her come but Killian was determined to draw it out, moving quickly until her breath was so ragged and she was just about to fall before slowing the movement of his thumb and making only shallow thrusts with his fingers. He added a third finger, stretching her, guiding her towards the edge again. A few times he moved each finger independent of the other, gently caressing her inner passage in a way Emma had never experienced, before he went back to moving his fingers in tandem again. She had trusted few men to go down on her or to finger her because most often it was to intimate for the purpose she had in mind but this blew all of those limited experiences out of the water.

Emma opened her eyes to see Killian staring at her in awe as though he couldn't believe what they were doing. His desire had almost completely overtaken blue eyes, leaving them as dark as the ocean behind them. His thumb circled her clit, the pressure unbearable and Emma's back arched as she pushed herself onto Killian's hand.

"That's it, love, take what you need of me," Killian coaxed as his fingers fucked her faster and with one final swipe over her clit, Emma cried out as her orgasm overtook her.

Emma was still coming down from her high as she watched Killian licking his lips and diving between her thighs. His tongue made contact with her sensitive bundle of nerves and she yelped. His tongue swirled unrelentingly at the same moment he plunged two fingers back into her, curling to find her sweet spot. Emma grabbed his hair and held him in place, riding his face and fingers once more until pleasure crashed into her, wave after wave. Killian pulled back and let her body relax, wiping his face clean and gazing at her as though she hung the moon.

She had a feeling unless she did something, he wouldn't take things any further. "Killian, I need more. You told me you'd grant my desires. Well right now, I need you to be naked." She unfastened his belt and shoved his pants down, glad he didn't seem to be wearing any boxers, and freed his sizeable cock.

She tried to run her hand over his hard length but he stopped her and mumbled something that sounded like 'another time'. He stood to divest himself of his shoes and pants. When he finally lowered his hips to be cradled between her thighs, Emma guided him to her entrance, unconcerned by the lack of protection. She was on the pill and wanted him without any barriers.

Killian cursed repeatedly, grasping her hip tightly enough she'd probably have marks afterwards, as he sank into her inch by inch until he was fully sheathed in her cunt. Emma felt fuller than she ever imagined she could. Her dreams and imaginings were nothing compared to reality.

"Wow," she gasped.

"Indeed, love. You feel wonderful around my cock. Do you think you can come for me one more time, love?" Killian asked, beginning to move, slowly at first but more frantically as his control slipped, his hips pressing into hers over and over. Emma closed her eyes as her muscles clenched in orgasm around him as he had asked.

Emma moaned when Killian's hand slipped into her hair, guiding her face, her lips, to his for a kiss. The shift in their angle caused a break of their kiss, each groaning in unison at the pleasure boiling over. Emma caressed Killian's cheek, tucking his unruly raven hair out of his face. Killian smiled but didn't say anything, knowing exactly what she needed without words.

His blunted arm slipped under her ass and pulled her even closer to him. Killian chuckled at her indignant 'humpf' and teasingly bit her left shoulder. Gentle kisses were peppered along the column of her neck to her ear at the same time his hand found a home against the other side of her neck, his thumb rubbing circles over her cheek. The touch from his rough, work-worn hand combined with his warm breath on her ear was too much. Thrust for thrust Emma and Killian continued past the breaking point, shattering together in a blinding climax, both completely spent.

Killian extracted himself from her and came back with a cloth from the picnic basket dampened with some water from a canteen. He moved to clean her and she shied away.

"Love, let me tend you?" Killian asked humbly. She nodded. It was almost awkward but after such intimacy, she could not deny it felt nice to have someone care for her thus. When he was finished he grabbed another blanket from the basket and pulling her body flush to his, her back to his front, and covered them securely with the blanket.

"Killian, we can't stay here all night," Emma protested. Silly afterthought given their activities out in the open on the beach. "Someone will catch us."

"No, love. No one will catch us. This particular stretch of beach has an enchantment that keeps it hidden," Killian explained.

"How did you find it then?" Emma queried, already knowing the answer.

"I'm a pirate, darling. I find treasures people intend to keep hidden. So as this place is protected from others, perhaps we can visit here again?"

"Definitely, this was never going to be a one time thing," Emma agreed. "Plus I feel like we barely scratched the tip of the iceberg on your talents. You gave me more orgasms than I've ever had in one night. I've never experienced anything like that before. You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

"Aye, love, I do know. I'm quite perceptive and I've seen the way you've looked at me, or more accurately my hand," Killian whispered, voice husky in her ear as said hand tortured her breast, fingers lightly twisting her nipple.

Emma was glad he couldn't see her face, red and flushed as it was, she felt on edge again, damn him. "Yeah, well, at first I was just curious how you managed with one hand but I realized you just found a new normal and didn't let it define you. Now I know I should never have underestimated you or thought less of you because you lost your hand. And, yes, I wanted to know how you could make me feel with your strong hand and nimble fingers. You can do more with your one hand then most could accomplish with two hands. Tonight you wielded a different kind of magic than I'm used to and I want more."

Emma felt his breath hitch as he digested her words, and since he was already holding his air, she figured now was as good a time as any to make sure he knew what she wanted next. "Next time, maybe in addition to your magical, musically talented fingers, you might also use your hook? I'd really love that."

Emma felt Killian grin against her skin, "As you wish, love. As you wish."


End file.
